Since I arrived in Paris I have been making my bed everyday. The only variation from what is normally done is that I never know from day to day how the bed will look when I am finished.
This Summer I was invited to Italy by a friend of mine and his family.
When we arrived at the farm house I was shown the room I would share with my friend. It was a cosy little room with two single beds. After the first night I thought that since it was a new bed for me that I would make it in the traditional way, and vary my approach later. The morning after the first night I made my bed ( like this ) and this seemed to please my friend's mother very much. She encouraged her son to make his bed as well, which he did.
The morning of the second day I made my bed like this.
A little later in the morning when my friend's mother asked me if I had made my bed I said "Yes", with confidence. She glanced into the room to look at it and immediately said in a stern voice without humor: "You have 30 seconds to march right back in there and make that bed." I couldn't believe it. "I am an adult", I thought. She must be kidding. I began to protest and to explain that this was part of my daily life and work, but she looked at me with total incomprehension like I was speaking jibberish. So I just shut up, went in the room, and made the bed like she wanted. I did this everyday for the rest of the trip.
My friend never did make his bed again for the rest of the trip.